


Don't Stand So Close to Me, Zombie Are Attacking

by Katranga



Category: Glee
Genre: Humor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sexual Content, Teacher-Student Relationship, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 12:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1687802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katranga/pseuds/Katranga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt has enough problems in his life. He’s nearly thirty and he’s teaching English at the same crappy high school he graduated from. He found two grey hairs in his bangs last month. He’s been hooking up with a student pretty regularly and he doesn’t even want to stop. So the last thing he needs is for one of his students to start gnawing on her boyfriend’s arm in the middle of his class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Stand So Close to Me, Zombie Are Attacking

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting here, so *pops champagne*. I posted this last summer on my tumblr, so on the off chance you've read it already, that's why. Okay, that's all. Enjoy!

**Prologue**

Blaine had the unfortunate tendency to crush on guys that he never stood a chance with. Like the babysitter he’d had when he was seven, who’d always let him eat ice cream even when his mom gave him specific orders not to. Or the senior who’d shown him around at Dalton when he first arrived. And then there was Jeremy, the older guy whose career he’d ruined when he convinced the Warblers to help him serenade him at the Gap.

Actually, putting it in a list like that made it painfully obvious that Blaine had a thing for older men.

Which was why it didn’t come as much of a shock to him that he developed the _biggest_ crush on his English teacher when he transferred to McKinley his junior year.

What did surprise him was the fact that he actually had a chance with Kurt Hummel.

It didn’t take long after they started fucking for Blaine to fall in love with him. Like, he’d never been in love before, so he when he told Sam about it he’d doubted him, but Blaine knew what he felt in his heart.

He didn’t know if Kurt felt the same. He would never, ever ask him because he was sure that Kurt would make them stop what they were doing. He was ridiculously nervous about what would happen if anybody found out, despite the fact that Blaine was eighteen.

He tried to calm him every time Kurt’s grip tightened on the steering wheel when Blaine got in his car, whenever he hurried Blaine into his house as fast as he could in the late afternoon sun.

Blaine didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but of course it wasn’t him the blame would fall on if the truth ever came out.

So instead of changing Kurt’s feelings about the matter, he just did his best to distract him and prove over and over again that the risk was worth the reward.

He’d gotten quite good at it.

“I missed you,” Blaine said, his lips on Kurt’s as soon as they’d closed the door to his house.

Kurt put a hand on his hip, and scrunched the material of his polo up in his hand, untucking it from his pants. “You’ve seen me nearly every day for a week.”

He looked at him from beneath his lashes. “Not the way I want to.”

He dropped to his knees and kissed Kurt’s clothed crotch. Kurt weaved his fingers through Blaine’s gelled hair and smiled down at him, the way he didn’t dare to at school.

In another world, Blaine was sure they’d have been soul mates.

He wasn’t entirely sure they weren’t in this one.

Blaine had started to undo his belt when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He’d usually ignore it, but under the circumstances, he knew he should check.

He slipped his phone out of his pocket and read the message.

From Sam: Zombie meating pronto

“Are you texting?” Kurt asked incredulously from above him, fingers tightening in his hair.

“Relax. I can multi-task.”

“Um, I don’t allow texting in class, so I don’t know why you’d expect me to tolerate it while you fellate me,” Kurt said.

Blaine shot him a grin that Kurt always said would get him off of a murder charge and then undid his zipper with his teeth while he typed out his reply.

To Sam: Codee red?/?

“Damn teenagers,” Kurt grumbled, head thumping against the door behind him

“It’ll just take a second,” he assured him. And if it didn’t, they had much bigger concerns to deal with.   

He slipped the button of Kurt’s dress pants through its hole and dragged his pants down to his knees, palms sliding against coarse leg hair and smooth skin, before he got an answer.

From Sam: No just regulation meating were at mikes

To Sam: 2 busy 4 u

He handed his phone to Kurt, who put it on the entry table before stroking his cheek. “Do I get the honour of your full attention now?”

Blaine kissed his hip bone, the sharp line disappearing into his boxer briefs. “You always have my attention, Kurt.”

He tugged on his hair. “Come up.”

He pouted but obeyed. “I was gonna blow you.”

“I know. But I wanna kiss you.”

Whenever their lips touched, Blaine was sure that they were meant to be, and that not even the worst of zombie plagues could keep them apart.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Kurt was introducing the book _Frankenstein_ by Mary Shelley to his class. He had an interesting enough lesson planned, but he’d gotten sidetracked by Sam Evans, who kept asking if Frankenstein’s monster could actually happen. He was in the middle of trying to get him to bother his biology teacher with that question when Marley Rose’s stomach grumbled unnaturally loudly.

He stopped talking to stare at her, which was probably unprofessional, but it sounded like she had swallowed a very disgruntled puppy and it was now making its displeasure known.

Blaine turned his gaze away from Kurt, where it almost always was, and looked over to Marley in concern.

Kurt decided to not embarrass the girl and allowed her boyfriend to quietly inquire upon her health instead. He cleared his throat and returned to the topic at hand, but only for a few minutes before Marley gasped out loud.

“Are you alright?” he had to ask.

She shook her head mutely, hand over her flat stomach.

“Have you eaten today?” he asked, vaguely aware of her issues with food.

“Yeah but.” Her voice came out scratchy, like she’d been screaming for hours before she came to class. She didn’t look so good, either. Her eyes were bloodshot and her skin was nearly white except for the dark bags under her eyes. “I’m so hungry.”

“Do you need to go to a vending machine or something?” he asked. “The nurse?”

“The bathroom stall?” one of the cheerleaders added snidely.

“No, I-” She turned her head towards Jake Puckerman, her irises flashing from brown to a sickly yellow. Her lip curled and she snarled, “You smell _delicious_.”

She launched herself at him, mouth first. Her jaws clamped around his shoulder and Jake let loose a wild scream as blood spurted onto his shirt.

At least five students shouted, “Zombie!”

One of whom was Blaine.

Another was Sam.

Blaine shot out of his seat and ran to the front of class so he could stand in front of Kurt.

Sam nearly sent his desk to the floor in his haste to get to the intercom beside the door. He paged the secretary and spat out the words, “Zombie outbreak! Quarantine the school!”

Blaine had his phone out. Kurt was pretty sure he was talking to the cops.

Marley was still gnawing on her boyfriend’s arm like he was a pork chop and he was begging her to stop, tears streaming down his face.

“Zombies?” the secretary’s confused voice crackled through the speaker.

“Ms. Pierce, Marley Rose has-” he started to describe the situation.

“Contracted a zombie virus!” Sam cut in. “We might all be infected. Call the CDC.”

Kurt walked over to him and shooed him away from the intercom. “Marley Rose is chewing on Jake Puckerman’s arm. Call an ambulance and the police.”

“Isn’t raw meat bad for you?”

“Brittany!”

His heart was pounding, but he needed to keep a cool head. He tried to convince himself that he’d seen stranger things. For example, the fact that he was an English teacher at his old high school was a reality he’d have never believed as a teenager.

Having a sexual relationship with one of his students was also unexpected, and still struck him as incredibly unlikely even though they’d been together for over six months.

“I already called 911,” he said from beside Kurt’s elbow. He hadn’t even noticed Blaine trailing after him. “They’re on their way.”

 “Um, I guess I’ll send Figgins down,” she said, the shrug apparent in her voice.

The call ended and Sam threw his hands up in frustration. “No, we need _less_ people in this room!”

“You’re right,” Kurt agreed with him for the first time. “Everybody go to Mr. Hudson’s room down the hall, for your own safety.”

A few students ran out the open door immediately, but the majority stayed behind for reasons beyond Kurt’s comprehension.

“Shouldn’t we try to get her off him?” Ryder asked, voice high and screechy.

Marley tore a strip of Jake’s flesh off his shoulder and gnashed it between her teeth. His blood ran down her chin like beef au jus.

Kurt shrugged. “I’m not allowed to manhandle students.”

Blaine shot him an amused look which he chose to ignore.

“Dude, he’s a goner,” Sam said. “If he doesn’t die, he’ll be infected too and then he’ll come after you.”

“As I was saying,” Kurt continued, speaking over the end of Sam’s morbid warning. “I don’t think anyone else should touch her. She might have rabies, or-”

“She’s a zombie!” Blaine and Sam shouted at him at the same time.

He stared back at Blaine for a moment in disbelief. His immaturity had never been so apparent to him, and all he could think was that he couldn’t believe he’d let Blaine fuck him in the ass.

“Whatever’s happening, everybody needs to leave _right now_ ,” he snapped, pointing out the door. “Go wait in Mr. Hudson’s room until the police arrive.”

More students listened to him this time, though he doubted it had anything to do with his authority and more due to Jake’s screams finally petering out into desperate gurgling. Marley had moved onto his neck and it didn’t look like Puck was ever going to see his little brother alive again.

He was left with only Blaine and Sam, who were speaking together in hushed tones.

“Situation B5 in effect,” Sam said, brows drawn up seriously. “Lucky you.”

Blaine shot him a dirty look and asked, “Have you texted Tina yet?”

“She’s in gym class and doesn’t have her phone.”

“So Mike’s getting her?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Blaine nodded. “I tried calling the CDC but the line was busy, which does not fill me with confidence.”

“This could be it, man,” Sam said grimly.

Kurt was just about to interrupt their ridiculous conversation when the intercom on the wall bleeped to life. “Kurt?”

“Brittany, you’re supposed to call me ‘Mr. Hummel’ on the intercom,” he repeated the conversation he’d had with her what seemed like a hundred times.

“But you just called me Brittany.”

He sighed.

“Are the police here yet?” Sam asked.

“No, and when I told Figgins that there were zombies here he hopped out his office window and ran across the parking lot to his car. He’s long gone,” she replied. “Should I tell Santana to get her machete out from under her desk?”

“Why does she have a machete?” Kurt asked, his voice going high.

“For emergencies.”

“What the hell kind of emergencies-?”

Blaine put a hand on his arm. “Kurt,” he said urgently.

“It’s Mr. Hum-” he began to reprimand him, because Blaine _knew_ not to call him by his first name at school, but then he saw who  Blaine was looking at.

Or, more specifically, who was looking at _them._

Marley’s yellow eyes were fixed on the group gathered near the door. Jake was abandoned at her side, his throat a gaping red hole. Enough of his flesh was stuck between Marley’s teeth that no amount of floss would get it out.

Considering what a boring girl she’d been, she was having _quite_ the afterlife.

“Don’t make any sudden movements,” Sam warned them without moving his lips.

That was of course the moment Finn chose to rush into the room.

“Ryder said there was a zombie??”

The excited expression fell from his face when Marley flung herself towards him. He let out a high screech of terror, but she was very uncoordinated and ended up crashing into a desk. She crumpled around it, her head on the floor and her feet in the air, but she was relentless and started dragging herself towards Finn.

Blaine shoved Kurt’s shoulder, trying to force him out of the room. “Get out of here, Kurt!”

He ignored him and shouted at his stepbrother. “Finn!”

Marley hauled herself off the ground and Finn was still frozen in shock in front of the teacher’s desk. Kurt moved to step forward and drag him out, but Blaine’s hold on his upper arm was tight.

He tore his gaze away from Finn, sensing Blaine’s honey eyes heavy on him. “Blaine. Get out of here.”

“ _You_ go. It’s not safe.”

“How about we find a _weapon_ ,” Sam began, and Kurt jumped. He’d forgotten he was there.

“Done, and done, losers.”

Kurt turned to the doorway, where Santana stood in her grey pencil skirt and blazer, hair swept off her face into a high pony with a machete grasped in her manicured fingers.

“I called Santana,” Brittany informed them brightly from the intercom.

“Now get out of my way and let a lady handle this.”

Santana strode past them in her five inch high heels and twirled the long, shining knife between her fingers before swinging it down and slicing Marley’s head cleanly from her shoulders.

Her head bounced onto the floor with a thump and her knees hit the floor a second later, leaving her body kneeling precariously.

Santana turned to face Kurt and the boys. “I expected this from these idiots,” she said, swinging the machete between Kurt to Finn as the rest of Marley’s body thudded to the floor. Dark blood seeped toward Santana’s shoes as she continued, “But I expected more from you two.” She pointed the tip of the knife at Sam and Blaine. “How many of my classes have you interrupted to ask about zombie diseases?”

“ _You just killed a student_ ,” Kurt gaped at her, unable to comprehend what he’d just seen.

“It was a zombie!” the rest of them cried.

He threw his hands into the air. “I’m having you all committed. There’s no such thing as-”

“Don’t!” Sam and Blaine cried.

“Kurt!”

Everything happened so quickly, but it felt like he was experiencing it all in slow motion. A hand grabbed his shoulder and dragged him through the doorway. There was a hot breath on his neck, foul and acrid, and Blaine’s face was terrified as he reached for him. His fingers bruised his wrist as he yanked him forward into his chest. Blunt nails dragged down his back before they were replaced by Blaine’s arms, clutching him tightly.

Time returned to normal when he heard a sharp crack echo behind him. He turned around in Blaine’s arms to see Sam wailing on Mr. Schuester with Kurt’s pointer stick.

His old choir teacher fell to the ground, his greying hair now covered in his own dark red blood.

“Sam,” he gasped, moving to step forward to try to stop him.

“Are you an idiot?” Santana snapped. She pushed past him to cut off Schuester’s head as well.

“Can you stop killing people?” he screeched.

“He just tried to eat you!” Finn said incredulously.

“ _Honestly_ ,” Santana said. “Who the fuck-? You never seen a movie? ‘There’s no such thing as zombies’. You might as well have said things couldn’t get any worse! You’re not a virgin, you don’t have that to protect you from your own stupidity.”

“This isn’t a movie!” he said. “This is real life and there are two decapitated bodies in my classroom and my pointer stick is covered in brain matter! This is ridiculous!”

Blaine ran his hand up and down his back, trying to soothe him. “It’s gonna be okay, Kurt. He didn’t bite you or anything, right?”

“No,” he shook his head. He looked from Marley to Mr. Schuester, dead on the floor and looking incredibly awful besides. Rabies did not cause people to have an insatiable urge to eat human flesh. His fingers closed around Blaine’s shoulder uneasily. “God, are these really zombies?”

“At last he gets it,” Santana groaned.

Kurt snapped back to himself and he stepped out of Blaine’s embrace.

Shit, shit, shit, shit. That had not looked like a teacher-student interaction at all.

Santana raised an eyebrow at him, and he felt like he was going to be sick because she knew something was up. Then again, Figgins had fled the building so it’s not like she could report him immediately. He might have the chance to flee the state before charges were pressed against him.

You know, if the zombies didn’t catch him first.

“The police are here and they’re not letting anybody leave the building,” Brittany’s chipper voice informed them.

“We should find Mike and Tina and settle into a secure location,” Sam said. “With weapons.”

“I need to get Brittany from the office,” Santana said.

“And Puck,” Finn said. “I think he’s in the gym.”

“Everybody’s in the gym,” Brittany said. “That’s where the police told them to go. I totally made an announcement about it.”

“Uh, I think that was when Sam was bludgeoning Schue,” Santana told her. “Must have missed it.”

“Why would he bludgeon a shoe?”

“ _Mr_. Schue- Schuester was a zombie,” Sam elaborated.

“You got some blood splatter, uh, everywhere, by the way,” Blaine said.

“I have wet naps,” Kurt offered automatically, going to his desk drawer. Blaine didn’t leave his side, which probably seemed incredibly suspicious to Santana and Kurt wished he would stop.

“Thanks, Mr. Hummel,” Sam said after he’d given him the wet naps.

Mr. Hummel. Teacher. Voice of authority. Right.

“Okay, so Brittany, head to the gym and we’ll meet you there,” he ordered calmly, falling easily into the role of leader.

“No.”

Or not.

“Britt, wait there until I get you,” Santana said. She put a hand on his arm. “Kurt, I know you probably get off being in charge in the bedroom, and the classroom, and wherever the hell else you go. But you are in the poorest position to be in power here, okay? Leave it to the chick with the bloody machete and the nerds who’ve seen every zombie movie ever made.”

“That’s us,” Sam grinned, pointing a thumb between Blaine and himself.

Blaine reached out to take Kurt’s hand, probably to support him despite Santana’s criticism, but he crossed his arms over his chest to stop him. Kurt was going to have _quite_ the talk with him whenever they got a private moment.

Sam threw the soiled wet nap in the garbage, face now free of freckled blood, and clapped his hands together. “So, we’re rounding up our friends and finding a secure location in the school, right?”

“And we’re not going to the gym with everyone else because… anybody in there could be infected, too?” Kurt guessed.

“Ah, you might not be useless after all,” Santana said.

Blaine smiled at him in encouragement and Kurt pretended not to notice that it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m thinking teacher’s lounge?” Blaine said, turning to address the group as a whole. “We need to get to the first floor anyway and there’s food, water, and a bathroom.”

“Great, I’m starving,” Finn said.

“Are you kidding me?”

“What? It’s almost lunch.”

“You just watched two people get decapitated!”

He shrugged. “I have cold pizza waiting for me.”

Kurt rolled his eyes.

“So you’re coming to get me?” Brittany asked through the intercom.

“Yeah, we’ll be there soon,” Santana said. “Try to find a weapon.”

“Okay, just don’t go down the science hallway because that’s where all the police are.”

“Why?”

“There are a bunch of zombies there.” The intercom emitted a short beep, signaling that she’d signed off.

“Well,” said Sam. He picked up the pointer stick he’d leant against the wall. “Everybody ready to head out?”

“I’ll give you all the pleasure of leading you,” Santana said, striding forward.

She stepped over Schuester’s body in the doorway without a second glance and the rest of the group followed with varying degrees of unease.

The hallway was emptier than it would normally have been during the middle of classes, and it was far too silent as well. Kurt wondered exactly what Brittany had said to over the PA system to get everyone to the gym so quickly.

“Do you think it was the cafeteria food that turned people into zombies?” Finn asked Sam, both of whom were walking ahead of Blaine and Kurt.

“No, no. There’ve been reports of isolated incidents for weeks,” Sam replied. “It’s all over the internet. The authorities have been trying to keep it under wraps and contained… Guess that didn’t work out.”

Blaine’s arm kept knocking against Kurt’s as they walked, but he wasn’t trying to hold hands anymore. He was hunched in on himself, his eyes flicking around in search of danger.

“It can’t possibly be that difficult to get to the office unscathed,” Kurt muttered to him reassuringly.

Blaine groaned. “Stop saying stuff like that. It’s bad luck.”

“Okay, well can I say that you have to stop acting like you’re glued to my hip?” he replied with a raised eyebrow. “It’s completely unprofessional-”

He rolled his eyes. “Kurt, we’re in a zombie apocalypse. I hardly think it matters-”

“It’s _Mr. Hummel_ -”

Blaine’s lips were on his and then off faster than Kurt could blink.

“Did you just-? I can’t believe-” He looked around frantically, but the others weren’t looking looking back at them.

He squeezed his upper arm comfortingly, before letting his hand fall back to his side. “Kurt, there are zombies running around. Whatever you’re worrying about isn’t going to matter for very much longer.”

“Are you seriously trying to put a positive spin on _zombies_?” he asked incredulously.

A smile peeked at Blaine’s lips, and then the PA system crackled to life and Brittany’s voice filled the whole school with, “Santana?”

She hopped into the nearest classroom and called her on the intercom. “What’s wrong?”

The beep to signal the end of an announcement echoed through the school and then a shorter beep filtered through the classroom speaker. “Um, so I locked the doors but people keep trying to get in? And I tried talking to them and asking what they wanted but they just made noises like Lord Tubbington did before you sent him to that farm, so…”

“Okay, we’re almost at a stairway. We’ll be down soon, sweetie,” Santana replied. Kurt could tell that she was upset because he had never heard her use pet names in public. “Just sit tight, okay?”

“Okay. Oh, also I think the zombies outside my door are the ones who killed all the police, so I guess you can go down the science hallway now.”

Kurt’s hand somehow found Blaine’s forearm and he squeezed it tightly. “All the police are dead?”

“Yeah, I was looking through Figgins’ office for a weapon and saw them on the security cameras.”

“Are you _sure_ they’re just dead and not undead?” Sam asked, slipping past Kurt to get closer to the intercom. “Are they going to come back as zombies?”

“How would I know?”

He sighed. “How’s the situation in the gym?”

“I dunno. Let me check.”

Santana tapped her machete against the wall as they waited. “Think we can get the guns off the corpses?”

“As long as they don’t come back to life, I don’t see it being too much of a problem,” Blaine replied.

“Have any of us even shot a gun before?” Kurt asked.

Finn raised his hand.

“Oh right, _you_ got into the army and shot yourself in the leg.”

He looked sheepish. “I’d forgotten about that, actually. I was going to say I’ve played a lot of Call of Duty.”

“I wish Coach Sylvester was still around,” Sam said. “You just _know_ she’d be fully prepared to kick some undead ass.”

“Her infamy does not live up to who she actually is,” Kurt sighed. She’d left the school years before, but stories of her notoriety had yet to stop circulating through students who’d never been insulted by her.

“So you’re telling me she’s not head of the CIA by now?” Blaine asked with an eye roll in Sam’s direction, like Kurt was the ridiculous one.

Before he could ask Santana for backup on his claim, the intercom beeped and there were shuffling noises like Brittany was settling into a chair. “Okay, well!” she began. “It looks like everybody is in the gym except for you guys and the zombies outside my door.”

“Alright, good.”

Sam tilted his head towards Blaine and muttered, “Do you wanna try calling the CDC again?”

“Yeah, but I doubt they’ll get here fast enough to be of any use,” he muttered back, taking out his phone.

 “Except that there are also zombies in the gym…” Brittany said in response to Santana’s comment.

“What?”

“Oh shit,” Finn swore.

“Well, I think Puck shoved them all into the locker rooms, so it’s sort of okay, but everybody’s still freaking out.”

“We need to get all those poor people out of the school,” Kurt said.

“No, we need to stay quarantined,” Sam argued. “It’s for the greater good.”

“What are you _talking_ about?”

“Look, we have a large infestation of zombies in the school. If we can keep the virus contained we can stop it from spreading even faster than it already has,” he explained.

“What if it’s too late for that?” Blaine asked, returning to the discussion after making his phone call. “The CDC still isn’t answering. What if it’s spread too far already? What if we keep all these kids here, and everybody gets bitten or killed, and we just end up with a high school full of zombies?”

Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Blaine, we’ve been over this. We can’t risk-”

“Guys?” Brittany said through the intercom.

Kurt closed his eyes. She was not giving them good news lately. “What is it, Brittany?”

“So I’m here on Figgins’ computer and I wanted to check my eBay bid for Lady Tubbington’s new cat bed, but his homepage is a news site and it says that there ‘have been several accounts of vicious, animal-like attacks committed by people across the globe.’ And that ‘Authorities are urging people to stay in their homes and not panic.’”

“‘Not panic,’” Kurt grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Okay. We’re a day away from complete Armageddon and nobody’s supposed to panic.”

Blaine put a comforting hand on his back and asked, “What else are they supposed to do?”

“Give an explanation!”

“I think it was a new prescription drug they were testing?” Sam said, tilting his head in thought.

“I read somewhere that somebody thought it was some sort of genetically engineered meat that caused it,” Blaine said.

“Could have been-”

Okay, well luckily that information wasn’t super important at the moment. Kurt stepped toward the intercom. “What are the teachers in the gym doing to control the panic?”

“Uh, there’s only Puck left, I think.”

“What? How?”

“I dunno, but I don’t see any other staff in the gym,” she said, tone disinterested. “Um, are you guys coming to get me or not?”

“We’re on our way,” Santana nodded. “Keep an eye on the cameras and tell us if we’re heading into danger, okay?”

“Can do! See you soon.”

They headed back into the hall but only got a few more steps before Finn stopped and said, “Wait.”

“No.”

He ignored Santana’s glare. “How come you and Sam are the only ones with weapons? What if a zombie attacks me?”

“Then we’ll all be better off,” she retorted.

“Santana,” Kurt sighed.

“Honestly, I’d much rather load these guys up to the brim with grenades and ninja stars than give you a baseball bat,” she said to Finn.

“Why? Is it because you like them better than me?”

“No, it’s because you’re an idiot.”

“Please keep walking,” Brittany whined through the PA system.

Blaine and Sam forged ahead and Kurt put a hand on each of Santana and Finn’s shoulders and forced them to follow. “Now’s really not the time for arguing.”

“I think it is,” Santana countered.

“You always think it’s time for arguing, so I’m gonna ignore you.”

“No. I don’t need Frankenteen in my zombie survival group,” she said. She had yet to stop using that nickname even though Finn was almost thirty. “He brings absolutely nothing to the table.”

“And what about Brittany?” Finn retorted.

Santana stopped in her tracks and Kurt stepped to the side, out of Santana’s field of vision, because she was holding a machete and she was scary enough without it.

“What _about_ Brittany?” she challenged, her voice deathly quiet.

“Guys, we need to-”

“Shh,” Kurt hushed Blaine. “Just let it play out.”

“Well, I mean,” Finn backtracked, looking flustered. “I just think I’d be more useful in the group than Brittany. I’m not saying she _shouldn’t_ be part of the group-”

“How would you be more useful than Brittany in an apocalypse?” she cut him off, raising a sharp eyebrow.

And Finn answered her, because he never learned how to quit while he was behind. It was also why he was twenty eight and had never been in a relationship that lasted longer than his on-again-off-again high school romance with Rachel Berry.

Kurt wondered if zombies were swarming Broadway yet.

“I mean, I’m stronger than her,” he began.

“So are these guys.” She jerked a thumb at Kurt, Blaine and Sam.

“I don’t know how strong Kurt actually is-”

“There’s-” Blaine began.

Kurt stomped on his foot to shut him up. He knew he could attest to his strength because he’d carried Blaine into his bedroom more than once. But Blaine did _not_ need to share that information with his stepbrother!

“And I can run pretty fast,” Finn continued, ignoring Blaine’s cut-off beginning of a sentence.

“Um, guys,” Sam said.

“Kurt, you still jogging every night?” Santana asked.

“Of course.”

She cut her glare away from Finn for the first time in minutes to smirk at him. “Keeping fit for any young male suitors that catch your eye?”

“Santana!” Kurt snapped, cheeks hot.

“Guys-”

“Plus, Brittany’s not… smart.”

Santana lifted her machete in what seemed to be reflex and said, “This coming from the stupidest person I’ve ever met!”

“Mr. H!” Sam’s exasperated shout caused Finn to turn in his direction. Both Finn and Kurt’s last names started with ‘H’ of course, but nobody called Kurt ‘Mr. H’. He never really encouraged his students to become too familiar with him.

And yes, he acknowledged the irony.

Sam threw Finn his pointer stick and Blaine shouted, “Behind you!”

He spun back around again to find Jake fully zombified and stumbling towards him. Kurt couldn’t believe that rest of them hadn’t noticed his presence.

Finn let loose a high-pitched squeal and then kicked him in the knee.

The zombie barely slowed down.

“With the pointer!”

“Unbelievable,” Santana sighed.

Finn jabbed Jake in the ribs, and it sunk in an inch deep between the bones.

“Can you chop off his head please?” Kurt asked Santana impatiently.

She shook her head, shrugging. “Hey, he thinks all he needs is a weapon to survive a zombie attack? Let’s see how he does.”

An exasperated groan fell from Kurt’s lips and he snatched the machete out of her hands. “I will not let my brother die so you can _make a point_.”

“Kurt-” Blaine tried to stop him.

He pulled at the back of Finn’s cardigan and dragged him away from Jake, who now had a pointer stick poking out of his chest.

“Fuck,” Kurt hissed as Jake lunged at him.

“Kurt!”

He slid to the side and barked, “Get the stick out of him.”

Blaine dashed forward and tore the pointer stick free of the zombie and then whacked him in the back of the head with it. Jake stumbled, groaning hollowly, and Kurt kicked him in the back of the knees. As soon as he hit the ground, he raised the machete high above his head and then hacked through the neck bone and spinal cord. It was a lot harder than Santana made it look.

“Keep going, his head’s still sort of attached,” Sam urged after he pulled the knife away from the body with a sickening squelch.

“The spinal cord isn’t connected to the brain anymore, though,” Kurt said, holding the machete away from his body so the sticky blood wouldn’t drip onto his boots.

“Just to be safe.

He sighed and swung the knife down again, completely severing the head from Jake’s body.

“Well I could have done that if I’d had the machete,” Finn grumbled.

“Shut up.” Santana shoved past him and reached out to take the weapon from Kurt with a grimace. “You know what? You can wipe the blood off, Rambo.”

Kurt was oddly pleased. “Never thought I’d have anybody calling me that,” he muttered as he carefully knelt down and wiped the flat of the knife against the zombie’s cotton t-shirt.

Sam started reaming Finn and Santana out for not listening to him and Blaine when they’d tried to warn them about the approaching zombie and Blaine crouched down on the other side of the corpse and gave Kurt a small smile. “We work well together.”

“Don’t.”

“Well enough to survive a zombie apocalypse.”

“Blaine.”

“Together.”

Kurt looked up at him, and the look in Blaine’s eyes was so tender that he couldn’t help but think back to the first time they’d kissed.

He’d been crying at his desk long after the last bell had rung. Just all of a sudden overwhelmed by the fact that his dad had died months before and he was never coming back. Blaine had wandered in and touched his shoulder and Kurt was reminded of how incredibly alone he was because the only person in his life who noticed his suffering was one of his students. Kurt had mumbled a question into his hands and when Blaine answered ‘Eighteen’, he’d tugged him down to his face level and Blaine had kissed away his tears before pressing his lips to Kurt’s.

Quickly thereafter the janitor had turned on the loud vacuum at the end of the hall which startled them apart, but a month later summer vacation had started and Kurt ran into Blaine at Scandals.

The rest, as they say, was poor-decision-making history.

“Are you seriously flirting with me over a corpse?” Kurt asked, forcing himself to concentrate at the situation at hand.

“A corpse that we killed _as a team_.”

“I did all the difficult stuff,” he countered.

“You couldn’t have knocked him to the ground if I hadn’t taken the stick out.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Santana’s sharp voice broke into their moment. “You two gonna fuck on top of the zombie, or can we save my girlfriend now?”

Kurt shot up so fast he got a head rush.

“Come on, we’re wasting time,” he said, taking off down the hall.

“What was she talking about?”

“Gimme my machete back.”

“Kurt, wait up.”

“We have to stay together, this is how bad things happen.”

Kurt ignored them all until they reached the stairwell. Santana sharpened the pointer’s tip with a flick of her machete so it would make more of an impact if someone used it as a jabbing device. Then she left it with Kurt and finally corralled them down to the first floor.

Sam stopped in front of the group when they were about to pass through the doors to the main hallway. “Okay guys. We got lucky upstairs, but we really need to concentrate on the situation at hand down here. There are potentially zombies everywhere, and it won’t be a stroll in the park. We-”

“Thank you, coach from every football movie ever made,” Santana cut in. “Everybody just shut up and stay alert if you wanna keep your heads, you feel me?”

She pushed past Sam and through the doors and he shrugged. “I guess that works, too.”

Blaine gripped Kurt’s hand tightly as they headed into the main hallway and he couldn’t bring himself to pull away this time. He tried to convince himself it was only because he wanted to comfort Blaine, but it wasn’t. He was scared and Blaine’s hand in his was calming him down, as much as he wanted to deny it.

They had to pass a set of gym doors to get to the main office, and when they came to them, Finn stopped. “Can’t we just pick up Puck and the kids’ friends first? We’re here anyway.”

“No.”

Santana’s stride didn’t falter as she continued down the hall and Kurt turned to follow her, but Finn whined, “Kurt, come on.”

Kurt hid Blaine’s and his clasped hands behind his back and said, “Finn, we’ll come right back.”

“Who put her in charge, anyway?”

“Does this seem like the time or place for that debate?” Kurt asked tightly.

“Blaine and I will go with Ms. Lopez and you guys can get Tina, Mike and Coach Puck and we’ll all meet up at the teacher’s lounge, okay?” Sam said, going to follow Santana down the hall.

“No, I wanna-” Blaine cut himself off, eyes flicking from Kurt to Finn before looking at Sam with a pleading expression.

Kurt was 99% sure that he’d told his best friend that they were fucking. Typical.

Sam held his gaze for a moment before nodding. “Mr. H, you’re with me. Come on.”

“What? I-”

“Finn Hudson, there is a horde of zombies outside of Brittany’s office. Go!” Kurt ordered, shoving the pointer stick into his chest and leaving absolutely no room for argument.

Finn gulped and followed a jogging Sam to catch up with Santana.

“I don’t like that we split up,” Blaine said quietly.

Kurt shrugged. “I don’t like anything about this situation at all.”

Blaine reached out to open the door to the gym, but Kurt laid a palm against his cheek and kissed him softly. Blaine pressed forward, trying to get as close as possible like always, before he pulled back and quickly scanned the surrounding hallway.

“That is exactly how people die in horror movies,” he scolded him softly.

“We’re not in a movie,” he said. “And if we were, don’t you think the lecherous old man would have died by now?”

His forehead creased in confusion. “What lecherous old-? Oh.”

Kurt kissed away the wrinkles on his upper brow. “Come on, we’re wasting time.”

Then he pulled open the gym door and nearly had his face torn off by a javelin.

He dropped down to the floor just in time to avoid being skewered, but he still felt the tip graze the top of his hair.

“Jesus Christ, Tina!” Blaine yelled. “What the hell?”

“I thought he was a zombie!”

“Does he _look_ like a zombie?”

“I was told to guard the door, not inspect people who opened it.”

Kurt picked himself off the ground and wiped floor dust from his pants. “Why didn’t you just _lock the door_?”

“This door’s lock has been broken for as long as I can remember, so Coach made a few of us guard it,” Tina said.

“Puck? Where is he?” Kurt asked.

“He’s teaching the kids who haven’t dissolved into hysteria self defense.”

“Of course he is.” And that’s when Kurt realized that they couldn’t just grab Puck and Blaine’s friends and scamper off to the teacher’s lounge, because that would mean abandoning hundreds of minors alone in a gym with a pack of zombies on the loose.

He sighed and strode into the gym, leaving Blaine and Tina to their conversation. He found the gym teacher in the middle of the room, forcing a kid into a headlock.

Kurt groaned and walked over to him. “The zombies aren’t going to be headlocking them, Puckerman.”

Puck looked up and grinned, letting the boy fall to the ground. “Kurt! You’re alive!”

He wrapped him up in breath-stealing hug and Kurt politely patted his back. “Finn didn’t text you that we were coming?”

“Finn’s alive too?”

“Right, so I guess that’s a ‘no’.” He took a step back and straightened out his vest before explaining the situation. “So after Santana gets Brittany we were going to head to the teacher’s lounge, but there are all these kids here-”

“Yeah and uh, that’s where all the teachers are,” Puck said.

“What? Why?”

“Emergency booze stash, man. End of the world, might as well get buzzed.”

“What the hell? My emergency supplies consist of an extra outfit in my car,” Kurt said. “But Santana has a machete and there’s alcohol in the teacher’s room?”

He shrugged. “I got a spud shooter in my office.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” he rolled his eyes. “Okay, so-”

“Kurt,” Blaine came over to him. His fingers hovered around his waist before snatching them back. “We found some weapons.”

He held up a baseball bat and gestured to the bats and field hockey sticks Tina and Mike were carrying.

“Perfect.” He snatched up a baseball bat and weighted it in his hand with a satisfied nod. He looked at Blaine. “We need to decide what to do with all these kids before we leave.”

Seeing as he was apparently the zombie expert, maybe he’d planned for this.

“We should stay quarantined,” Tina said, leaning on her javelin in her school-issued gym clothes. Ugh, what an outfit to be caught in the middle of a zombie apocalypse in.

“Tina, I really think we need to send them home,” her boyfriend argued gently.

Blaine nodded.

She crossed her arms with a huff. “You know Sam agrees with me, you can’t rule out the option just because he’s not here.”

“Great, that’s all very helpful, thanks,” Kurt bit out.

That’s what he got for relying on teenagers.

“Look, I say send them home, it’s not like we’re doing them any good keeping them here,” Puck said. A dodge ball came out of nowhere and he grabbed it just before it hit his face. “Nice try, Brett! But not good _enough_!” He whipped the ball back at a kid hard enough to bruise.

“This is you preparing them for the zombie apocalypse?” Kurt asked with a raised brow.

He shrugged. “Like I said, not doing much. If I had some guns I could teach them something useful, but I don’t have any potatoes for the spud shooter.”

“Okay legally, we are not supposed to let students out of our sight until 3 pm. We could get sued if they get injured,” Kurt said.

Blaine nodded at him condescendingly. “Kurt, remember that conversation we had about some stuff not mattering anymore because of the zombies?”

He let out an irritated sigh. “Yes, I know. I was just pointing it out.”

“Well, seeing as we have three undead students in the locker room, I think it’s a safe bet that _somebody’s_ getting sued, so we might as well send them all home,” Mike said. He put an arm around Tina’s shoulders and added, “Also then _we_ can go home, to my reinforced basement.”

“We need to get Sam first,” Blaine said. “We should go help them fight the zombies at the office and discuss what we’re going to do later.”

Kurt wanted to argue that an adult should stay in the gym to supervise, but the students who weren’t preparing for the upcoming apocalypse by wrestling each other were crying in the bleachers. He figured they could be on their own for a few minutes.

Puck grabbed a field hockey stick out of Tina’s arms. “Alright, let’s go avenge my little bro.”

They let Puck lead them out of the gym and into the hall, the two couples trailing closely behind him. It wasn’t long until they heard sounds of fighting. The zombies groaned angrily as dull smacks echoed off their skulls and Kurt could hear Sam shouting “HIYAH!” over and over again.

Puck ran forward, around the corner into the fray with a loud war cry.

“Really?” Kurt asked with a shake of his head.

A high shriek pierced his ears, and it could have been Brittany, but Kurt was betting it was Finn.

Blaine grabbed his hand and tugged him forward. “Come on.”

The hallway leading to the main office was filled with combat. The police had definitely returned as zombies, and humans were outnumbered three to one. Bodies littered the floor and Kurt almost tripped over one, but Blaine kept him steady.

He straightened just in time to see Puck body slam a zombie away from Finn. Right into Sam.

“Sam!” Blaine shouted as his friend collapsed under the weight of a zombie and landed in a heap on the floor.

Blaine shot forward, and Kurt felt uncomfortably untethered without the reassuring weight of his hand in his own. He shook his head to get rid of the sensation and knocked a zombie reaching for Blaine into the wall with his baseball bat.

“Where’s Santana?” he shouted at Finn.

“In Britt’s office. Some zombies got in.”

He pointed to Mike and Tina. “You two help Ms. Lopez and Ms. Pierce in the office. Now.”

They dropped all but one of the weapons they were carrying and started to make their way through the mass of zombies. He felt fingers start to wrap around his ankle and he stomped on the hand with the heel of his boot before smashing the zombie’s head in with his bat.

“Puck, help Tina and Mike get through,” he ordered, hitting the zombie a few more times when he saw its jaw move.

Puck ran in front of the teenagers and started swinging wildly. Kurt pointed at the pile of weapons they’d left behind and told Finn, “Hit dead things.”

He gulped and nodded and Kurt turned back to Blaine and Sam, who were crouched over the zombie that Puck had accidentally pushed into Sam. Its head was bashed in and the two boys were covered in gore.

Blaine was staring up at him with an open mouth. “God, you’re hot when you take charge.”

His face flushed red under the flecks of blood covering it. “Sam, did it bite you?”

He shook his head.

“Great, can you go watch Mr. Hudson’s back? I’ve got Blaine.”

“On it.” He jumped up and grabbed the shovel he’d been fighting with before heading to Finn.

Kurt reached out a hand and helped Blaine off the ground. Blaine bit down his grin like he did when he wanted to kiss him in public, and for the first time Kurt really wanted to give in. Even though the situation was more inappropriate than ever.

He didn’t have time to talk himself out of it though, because at that moment the PA system started playing…

_Baby, can’t you see? I’m calling. A guy like you should wear a warning._

“Is this Britney Spears?” Kurt asked incredulously before bashing a zombie’s head against a wall while it was distracted.

“Soundtrack!” Brittany’s voice announced over the music.

Sam and Blaine nodded at each other like it was _expected_ and Finn looked, if possible, even more scared than before.

They continued fighting, and Kurt couldn’t help swaying along to the music. He tried not to think about the fact that he was shaking his ass along to a 90’s pop hit while his arms were getting tired from smashing walking corpses over and over again, but Blaine was making it difficult because he was singing along.

“ _I need a hit_ ,” he grunted, whacking a zombie in the small of the back. “ _Baby, gimme it. You’re dangerous. I’m lovin’ it_.”

“For fuck sake’s,” he muttered. He couldn’t believe how simultaneously aroused and horrified he was.

“Kurt!” Puck called, pointing behind him. “More incoming. Fuckers must have escaped the locker rooms.”

_Losing my head. Spinning ‘round and ‘round._

Kurt might have done a few pirouettes to knock the zombies to the floor.

Blaine bashed in a zombie’s head, growling, “ _Do you feel me now_?”

“ _With a taste of your lips, I’m on a riiide_ ,” Brittany sang along through the PA system.

“Brittany!” Santana’s yell was heard through the speaker.

“Coming!” There was a bang, but the music kept playing.

_With a taste of a poison paradise. I’m addicted to you. Don’t you know that you’re toxic?_

“If this is the last song I hear before I die, I swear to god-” Kurt huffed, wiping his blood-stained face on his shoulder. The shirt was ruined anyway.

“Shh. No dying, only singing,” Blaine said, back to him so he could properly defend them.

“And killing,” he quipped. He bent down to slip a gun out of the hand of a fallen cop, only to find that it wasn’t quite dead.

Its cold fingers grabbed his wrist, and Kurt pulled the trigger reflexively, hitting the zombie in the hip.

“Double tap!” Sam shouted from down the hall.

Blaine jumped on the zombie’s arm a few times to get it to release its grip on Kurt, and then he aimed for the head and shot it twice, leaving his arm feeling shaky and unstable from the kickback.

_Too high, can’t come down. It’s in the air and it’s all around. Can you feel me now?_

“Save those fucking bullets and use your goddamn baseball bat,” Santana ordered, finally out of the office and at the front of the hallway.

Brittany was right behind her, wielding one of Figgins’ lamps high over her head. She covered her nose with her other hand and said, “Oh my god, this place reeks!”

“Are we done here?” Kurt asked, chest heaving as he took in the pile of dead covering the floor. He could barely take a step without the sickening sensation of a squish or crunch underneath his boot.

“What about the last ones?” Finn asked, bouncing on his heels and pointing to the few remaining zombies with his gore-covered stick. Looks like he’d gotten into the spirit of things.

_And I love what you do. Don’t you know that you’re toxic?_

“Waste ‘em.”

And with that encouraging order, Santana stomped over a few bodies until she reached a still-standing zombie and cut its head off its shoulders. With (unsurprising) grace, Mike swooped down and knocked a zombie off its feet before Tina smashed its face in. Puck and Finn participated in what looked like a practiced move- Puck hit a zombie’s face, and Finn smashed the back of its skull at the same time, causing the head to cave in from both sides.

_Intoxicate me now. With your lovin' now. I think I'm ready now... I think I’m ready._

As the final chords of the song filtered through the speakers, the last zombie fell to the ground, collapsing among its incapacitated brethren.

“Any requests?” Brittany asked.

“NO.”

She shrugged and went back into the office to retrieve her iPod she’d hooked up to the PA system, and Kurt reminded them that they still had to decide what to do with all the kids in the gym.

“I’ll bet you my rations in water that they all got the fuck outta dodge when Britney Spears started playing,” Santana scoffed.

“Hey, don’t bet your water, you need that,” Sam advised seriously.

“We don’t have rations!”

“ _Yet_.”

“No, I’m serious, this hallway smells worse than the boy’s locker room,” Brittany said, returning with her iPod. “Let’s get out of here.”

She was right. The only reason Kurt hadn’t gagged from of the stench yet was because he was standing close enough to Blaine to smell his raspberry hair gel.

Santana nodded and addressed the group as a whole. “As you’re leaving, grab any guns you see off the zombies, but for the love of god, make sure that the safety is on.”

They slowly made their way out of the hallway, packing all of the guns they found into Brittany’s fluffy pink purse before heading to the gym.

“And nobody got bit?” Sam asked for the hundredth time.

“No, just _covered_ in blood,” Kurt said. He pulled his scarf out of where it was tucked around his neck and wiped his face. “And sweat. Ugh, I’m gonna need like a hundred showers to feel clean again.”

“We’ll have to start conserving water,” Blaine said. Kurt huffed and Blaine added under his breath, “So I’ll just have to join you.”

Kurt slapped him in the arm just as they reached the gym doors. Puck did a secret knock, in case there was anybody still guarding the other side, and then waved them in. As Santana had predicted, most of the students had fled.

There were a few kids who’d fallen asleep waiting for something to happen, and a couple others crying softly, so Santana just cupped her mouth and shouted, “Everybody go home!”

The ten or so stragglers sluggishly left the building, and Kurt went to speak to Santana while Puck and Finn recreated their best zombie kills for Sam, Blaine, Tina and Mike.

“So what do we do now?” Kurt asked.

“Get to a secure location and prepare for the oncoming zombie invasion,” Brittany replied with a nod. “Possibly contact aliens for help. Do you know any?”

Santana waved their questions away. “What you need to think about, Kurtie-boy, is what you’re going to do with _him_.”

She didn’t even need to point at Blaine and his head swiveled around to look at him. He played dumb anyway. “Who?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d never have guessed you to so scandalously disobey the law-”

“It won’t matter if you don’t tell anyone,” Kurt cut in, trying not to sound like he was pleading.

“Yeah, that’s obviously my biggest concern right now.” She started picking dried blood out from under her fingernails. “By the way, how many murderous zombies do you think we've killed in the last hour?”

“Just because you don’t have any morals to speak of doesn’t mean you can tease me for still feeling conflicted about having an illicit affair with one of my students.”

She rolled her eyes, so fed up with his petty worries. “You can’t possibly be that conflicted if you’ve been fucking him long enough for him to fall in love with you.”

“No, he’s not,” he argued immediately. It felt like his face had caught fire. “Santana, you can’t just-”

“Do you love him?” Brittany asked, her eyes wide.

He gulped past a hard lump in his throat and cut his gaze to Blaine. He was crouched in front of the last student left, some terrified freshman who was huddled on the first row of the bleachers.

“He’s eighteen,” he repeated in a longing voice.

“So?” she asked innocently.

Which was a fair enough argument.

Kurt didn’t reply, just bit his lip and watched Blaine speaking softly to the distressed kid in the stands. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m just so hungry,” he replied, voice scraping past his teeth.

Kurt’s blood ran cold.

Blaine patted the boy’s knee. “I know, we all missed lunch-”

The sound of Kurt’s baseball bat clattering to the floor was overridden by his cry of, “Blaine!”

He turned his head and had just met Kurt’s gaze when the kid sprang on him.

“Blaine!” His voice tore out of his throat and he nearly tripped over his feet trying to get to him. “Blaine!”

He barely heard the harsh clacking of the zombie’s teeth over his thumping heart, the sound of his boots pounding across the gym floor.

He recognized his own name being called, but he didn’t stop running towards Blaine. He didn’t know what he was going to do once he got there since he’d dropped his weapon, but every molecule of his body was buzzing with the need to save Blaine.

The zombie had knocked Blaine on his back, and he had it by the shoulders, so its gaping mouth was barely an inch away from his face. Kurt reached him and could think of nothing else to do but grab the zombie by its shaggy hair and heave it off of Blaine.

The zombie convulsed in Kurt’s hold, like he couldn’t decide whether to continue his assault on Blaine or switch his attention to Kurt. It quickly decided on Kurt, and tried to twist its head far enough to bite into his wrist.

Blaine rolled out from under the zombie and hopped to his feet. “Drop it, drop it!”

Kurt released his grip on its hair and it fell to the ground with a smack. Its nose probably broke, but that didn’t deter it. It started crawling towards Kurt, and he jumped back, pushing Blaine behind him.

“Don’t move!”

Kurt probably would have kept moving anyway, except that a shot louder than hell echoed through the gym which forced Kurt to cover his ears like a child.

He felt blood splatter against his eyelids, and when the ringing in his ears had subsided he wiped it away with his scarf before opening his eyes.

Kurt scowled down at the motionless zombie with a glistening red hole in its head while Blaine peeked over his shoulder and whispered, “Holy smokes, is that Sue Sylvester?”

An imposing woman with a shotgun resting over her shoulder walked towards the group gathered in the middle of the gym, and Kurt couldn’t even dredge up any surprise. If anyone was going to show up out of the blue and save them from a zombie, of course it was going to be her.

Kurt and Blaine rejoined their friends in the center of the gym as Santana headed forward toward Sue. “You’re a little late,” she said, spinning her machete around on one finger. “We just killed like thirty undead colleagues and students, so you showing up to kill the last one here isn’t as impressive as you expected.”

“I didn’t come here to be impressive, Lopez,” she retorted, voice as sharp as ever. “I came here to ream out whoever released youths into the streets while there are zombies on the loose.”

Sam stepped forward and saluted her. “Coach Sylvester, it’s an honour to finally meet you. I’m Sam Evans, and I had ordered that the school be kept under a strict quarantine, but the situation got away from us when Brittany Spears started playing over the PA system, so I’m gonna lay the blame with Ms. Pierce.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Santana scoffed.

Sam jumped, unused to her uncontained scorn.

“Are you with the CDC now?” Mike asked Sue.

“Or a special zombie containment unit?” Tina guessed.

“Are you gonna blow up the school?” Blaine asked.

“Can we get out of it first?” Finn asked uneasily. Kurt shook his head at him. The students had nothing but ballooned gossip to go on, but Finn really should know better.

Sue narrowed her eyes at Finn, then took in the rest of the group with very little change in expression. “Yes. Everybody get out. Since the high school has been compromised, the residents of Lima have been instructed to head to the community centre if they do not feel safe in their own homes.”

“Are you in charge of Lima now?” Sam asked.

She smirked. “Kid, I’ve been running Lima for years.”

Tina’s shoulders slumped. “Really? _Only_ Lima?”

Kurt was sure he’d heard rumours that she was secretly the president of the United States.

“It’s a bigger pain in the ass than you’d think,” she retorted with a pointed finger. “And as reigning overlord, I order you all to either return to your homes or head to the community centre. Stat.”

Sue spun on her heel and headed back out the door without another word.

“I told you she wasn’t as impressive as all that gossip,” Kurt said.

“She’s supreme overlord of our town!” Sam argued. “That’s pretty bad ass.”

“I don’t remember voting for her,” Brittany said, brow creased with confusion.

Kurt snorted a laugh into Blaine’s hair. He hadn’t let go of Blaine since he’d been attacked by the zombie and he did not look forward to ever releasing him. He would never again be annoyed by Blaine’s refusal to leave his side because he never wanted to be more than an arm’s length away from Blaine ever again.

“Kurt, why are you, like, hugging Blaine like that?” Finn asked.

He felt Blaine’s shoulders tighten against the front of his chest, expecting Kurt to jump back and splutter out some excuse. Instead, he kept his arms around Blaine’s waist and replied simply, “Because I want to.”

Finn stared at them for a few more moments and then shrugged. “Whatever, can we go home now? I need to check on my mom.”

Kurt slumped against Blaine’s back, not realizing how anxious he’d been to hear Finn’s reaction. If they stuck with Blaine (and god did he want to) Kurt would tell Finn what was up. But he wanted to talk to Blaine first.

“So glad she wasn’t at the hospital today,” he said in response to Finn.

“Wait, are you fucking the kid?” Puck asked. He let out a loud whoop of laughter. “Fuck, geddit Hummel.”

His face flooded with colour.

“Wait, what?” Finn said.

“Guys, come on. We have a lot of stuff to get done,” Tina said, completely unfazed as she pulled out her phone and read from it. “Raid the grocery story, get gasoline, board up windows-”

“Did you tell _everyone_ about us?” Kurt asked Blaine incredulously.

“It was pertinent to zombie planning!” he said. “If there was a zombie outbreak and we weren’t together, I’d have had to come get you and that had to be one of the scenarios we planned for.”

“Is _that_ why you guys have been so weird today?” Finn asked, realization dawning on him. “Isn’t he your student?”

“Well the school’s trashed now, so that isn’t relevant, is it?”

“Um.” He looked like he was thinking really hard. “No?”

“Aren’t we supposed to be leaving?” Brittany asked.

“Yes,” Tina nodded. “Gather your weapons and let’s head out.”

Everybody obeyed and Kurt let out a huge breath of relief. That hadn’t been too bad.

“We’re aware that not everybody can be the leader of a zombie survival group, right?” Blaine muttered to Kurt as they picked up their baseball bats.

“Maybe we’ll have to split up,” he shrugged.

“But you’re with me, right?” he asked, worry flashing across his features.

He touched his cheek, and then thought maybe he shouldn’t because his hand was filthy but then so was Blaine’s face. “I can think of no better partner for the zombie apocalypse.”

His grin was instant and as bright as the sun. “Great,” he bounced on the tip of his toes in excitement before pressing a kiss to Kurt’s cheek. “I should tell Tina so she can mark it down-”

Kurt rolled his eyes and tugged him back when he started to skip away. He kissed him solidly and murmured, “I love you.”

“Love you more,” he replied, smiling against his lips.

“Doubtful,” he scoffed.

“Wanna bet?” he asked, moving to wrap his arms around his shoulders. His baseball bat almost hit Kurt in the face.

“Come on, idiots!” Santana called from the doorway. “We’ve got zombies to kill and people to avoid. Let’s gooo.”

“Coming!” Blaine replied, grin still plastered on his face. He looked at Kurt. “Ready for this?”

“For what? The collapse of society as we know it? Danger around every corner? A dwindling supply of moisturizer?” he asked.

“And hair gel,” he pouted, patting at his frizzy hair.

He chuckled. “I think we’ll survive.”

“Me too.”

Kurt took hold of Blaine’s free hand and they followed their friends out of the gym, into a future full of uncertainties- other than the fact that they would be together.

 


End file.
